Defying Fate
by PhantomBella
Summary: When one of the hooded Hashashin kills Serena's brother, she joins the Templars to get closer to her target for revenge. Rated T. Check the Author's Notes for content warnings.
1. Chapter 1

What has happened so far: This story is told from the perspective of Serena MacRae, a young girl growing up in England. She had an older brother who was two years older than her named Sean, and a sister one year younger than her named Alice. Sean goes off to join the Templars when he turns 18, and two years later he returns home for a few months to teach Serena everything he's learned, so she can join him someday. A few months after he goes off to battle, Serena's family receives a letter from the Templar order saying that he's been killed, and they must go to London to learn more about what happened.

�Serena's father takes her with him when he goes to London, and tries to pass her off as a man. They visit the Temple church, and Serena spars with Nicholas, one of the high-ranking knights. Though she loses, he is impressed with her determination and decides to let her in. Just as the deal is sealed, a winter wind blows back Serena's hood, revealing her to be a woman. Chaos ensues, and Serena is run out of the church while her father stays behind to negotiate with the men. Nicholas meets her by the river, and tells her that he wants to help her avenge Sean, as the two were close friends. He tells her to return the next day, and she will be initiated into the Order.

Serena returns, but is not initiated. They decide instead to send her to a camp just outside Jerusalem run by Robert de Sable, who is not really affiliated with the Templars yet. She is given an Arabic pseudonym, Sana, to mask her affiliation with the West. Her partner, William, is also given the pseudonym Asad. They both have mentors, Hakim and Suleiman, who make their first appearance in this chapter. Serena is 23 by the end of this chapter.�

A/N: Many thanks to Ilada Jefiv for editing this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. I do, however, own all of my original characters.

-Chapter 1-

Seven years ago, I arrived in Acre. As soon as we touched the land, associates of the Templars herded my comrades and I into a caravan like slaves and shipped us off over land to a small campsite just outside of Jerusalem.

"_A young woman? Hakim, surely you must be mad!" _

"_She is my daughter. My wife died recently, and she is the only family I have left," Hakim bluffed. I looked to the ground, my face completely wrapped in a red silk scarf._

"_Why don't you sell her and keep the money for yourself?" the sailor asked as he helped us unload our belongings from the ship._

"_Do you have a daughter?" Hakim asked the man. _

"_No, sir," the man replied, a confused expression on his face._

"_Then you wouldn't understand," Hakim snapped, grabbing me by the shoulder and pushing me into the rickety caravan __t__hat waited for us_

"_Thank you, sir," I whispered graciously, hoping I wasn't stepping out of line. _

"_Don't get used to it. I'm here to teach you to protect yourself, not to provide shelter for you," he hissed once we were out of earshot of the sailor. _

_I folded my hands in my lap and __secluded__ myself __in __a__ corner of the caravan for the entire ride. _

Once we reached camp, we were introduced to Robert de Sable.

_Suleiman and Hakim fell to their knees as they stepped out of the caravan. Asad and I followed suit, staring at the dirt even though we both wanted to look into the eyes of our new master. I assumed our guardians held this man in high regard by the way they acted in his presence, and wondered idly how long they had known Robert._

"_You may stand," Robert said in a powerful voice with a thick French accent. I stood and looked him in the eyes, the smooth fabric __of my veil__ rustling against my skin like water in the afternoon breeze._

_He wore the standard Templar armor, despite the rumors I'd heard of him not being affiliated with the Order. Unlike the others, a mundane gray cape was draped over his shoulder__s__. He had a dark, handsome face with many scars and traces of stubble around his square jaw line. He was bald; the pale sunlight reflect__ed__ off his skin. I tried not to stare, but I had never seen a man with no hair before. _

_Robert caught me staring._

"_You in the red scarf, let me see your face," __he__ commanded. I reached up and began unwrapping it, trying to ignore the panic in the guardian__s'__ eyes. Once I had finished, I pushed my hair back from my face and met the dumbstruck gaze of Robert de Sable_

"_WHAT! I ask for your finest novices, and you bring me a woman!" Robert exclaimed furiously at Hakim and Suleiman, refusing to look at me any longer. _

"_Sir, we assure you that we had no choice in the matter. If you wish, you make take it up with Nicholas," Hakim said in a voice that seemed to berate my friend. I wanted to wring his neck for insulting Nicholas, but I stood silently in respect, pretending to ignore their anger. _

"_Master de Sable, if I may?" Asad spoke up after a moment of tense silent._

"_Yes?" Robert asked, annoyed._

"_I think it could be advantageous to have her along. From what I've heard, the Hashashin are required to abstain from… certain evils just like the Templars. We could use the girl as bait for the hungry men__" Asad bartered. I shot him a dirty look, but it bounced off of him and fell to the __ground__. I returned to playing with my hands, trying to reassure myself with the idea that he was just trying to protect me._

"_You have a point. I will consider it. For now, set up your tents and prepare for dinner. Your teachers and I have much to discuss," Robert said, his voice__ now__ calm and contemplative. I exhaled deeply, releasing the breath I had been subconsciously holding. _

_As Suleiman and Hakim left with Robert, I turned to Asad, hoping for an explanation. He just smiled and winked._

"_Thank you, Asad." _

It wasn't long before I realized Asad had broken the code of the Order when Sean died by coming back from a failed mission alive.

"_Asad, why are you-" I cut myself short. He was eating on the ground, the guardians turning their noses up at him._

"_I was hoping you wouldn't find out so soon," Asad said. His forehead was creased, and his head inclined toward the ground in shame. "I left your brother when he needed me the most, and he gave his life to make sure we would all escape alive in return."_

"_Could you tell me more about what happened?" I asked, taking a seat on the ground next to him. He looked over at me in surprise, not understanding why I would want to eat on the dirty ground, especially after telling me he believed it was his fault my brother was dead._

"_Sean was in charge of our group__," he began. " It was his first mission as the group leader.__ We were supposed to infiltrate Saracen territory and learn all we could about their tactics, since the Templars didn't have much information about them. _

"_Your brother led our group through the mountains of Persia, searching for the Hashashin fortress called Alamut. We were almost there, when we were ambushed. Feyadeen, as they are called, seemed to attack us from all sides. Sean gave up his horse to some of the other novices that were working with us and stayed to fight. We rode away, and__ as we descended the mountain, the scent of burning flesh reached our noses," Asad finished._

"_So it was a group of them?" I asked._

"_No, it was only one. He was all around us, everywhere and nowhere __all__ at once," Asad shuddered._

"_How do you know?" I whispered intently, not believing such a person could exist._

"_When we returned to the site, the name 'Altaïr __i__bn La-Ahad' was written in dried blood on tattered Templar armor. There were no other traces of life around, save the remains of a fire," Asad explained. I didn't wince at his __description__ this time. My hands tightened into fists, and my fingernails cut deep into my palm, causing __sticky__ blood to trickle down my forearm._

_Altaïr would die. _

Asad and I were trained to blend in with the Muslim citizens of Jerusalem,the kind of people the Hashashin worked to protect. I learned to speak Arabic, the verses of the Koran, and all other facets of the Ismaili doctrine.

"_Sana, Asad__ this is dai Tahir. He will teach you about the Ismaili sect of Islam and how to behave around other Ismailis like the Hashashin," Robert said. His French accent made him difficult to understand, so I inclined my head toward him to understand better the information he had to offer. _

"_Are you deaf, woman!" Robert hissed. I lurched backwards, fearing his anger. _

"_N-no, Sir," I said, not adding anything else for fear of angering him further._

"_My Lord, please. May I speak with my students alone?" dai Tahir asked respectfully, a kindly crinkly-eyed smile warming his face. Robert snorted, turned on his heels, and walked away without another word. __ The dai turned back to me and winked._

"_Come here, child. Feel Allah's warm embrace and understand what it is to be an Ismaili." _

On days that I didn't have classes with the dai, Hakim trained me in the art of sword fighting.

"_How can you expect to win when you fight so passively! Don't just dodge __–__ strike back!" Hakim yelled as he slashed at me time and time again. I grunted with each lightning quick strike, my arms crumbling under the pressure even after a year of training. He wasn't leaving any openings for me to get through. I eventually lost all of my strength__ and Hakim won the duel, beating me with his fists as he did each time I lost. _

With each failure, my stamina grew.

_He was aggressive as usual__ but this time I __managed__ to think between each blow. I was able to watch his feet and movements to predict where he would go, and eventually I was one step ahead of him. When the time was right, I lashed out and nicked him in the cheek, causing him to flinch in pain. _

_I winced, afraid of receiving another beating for being so careless. Instead, he came over and clapped his hand on my shoulder._

"_You're much slower than any other student I've __trained__, but I think you're ready to learn to wield a short sword__" Hakim graced me with the first genuine smile I'd ever seen from him, and he never beat me in frustration again. _

After I learned to use the short sword, Suleiman and Hakim watched Asad and I spar. I was generally stronger than he was, but later I learned it was because Hakim was much more skilled than Suleiman.

Beads of sweat ran down my forehead, the salty liquid covering my body. The hilt of my sword slipped about in my shaky hands as I waited to Asad to strike.

He was a defensive fighter like me, so the beginning of the battle was slow as we circled each other in the clearing. Suleiman and Hakim were positioned in the north and south ends of the field, their arms folded over their chests in anticipation. Robert stood by Hakim, his eyes trained on me expectantly.

I charged at Asad first, striking as quickly as a snake. The blade was propelled forward with strength I didn't know I had, moving so rapidly it faded into invisibility. Somehow, Asad was able to block all of my attacks, but his footwork was sloppy, and his breath grew short within moments.

After the second series of attacks, his sword flew from his hand, and I lunged at him with my blade, knocking him over and pressing my blunted sword to his neck.

"Dead," I said, letting the word hang victoriously in the air for a moment.

Robert de Sable was impressed by my victory, insisting that I be trained in the evil art of love to give me another skill to fall back on. He hired a woman named Rasha to care for my appearance and train me to entertain men through music, conversation, and other, less desirable means.

She secretly promised me that, if I went along with her training, I would only ever have to converse with the men to get whatever Robert wanted. Relieved, I worked with her to form a basic set of principals I could apply to any conversation that would fit the Ismaili doctrine, be it from politics to philosophy and medicine.

"_You must always be the one in control. The coherency of the information you __receive__ cannot be guaranteed if the man is drunk, so it is best if you can speak with them while they are sober," Rasha explained, her brown eyes large and sparkling with cleverness like a gazelle's. I nodded, writing her words down on a piece of parchment._

"_The way to do this is to make the man think he is in control. Flatter him __–__ put him on a pedestal. He will surely pursue you and tell you anything you need to know__"_

After the first two years with dai Tahir and Rasha, Robert started taking me to elaborate parties throughout the Holy Land to train me to get information directly from lusty men. I refused to go without Asad there to look after me, where he always watched me like a hawk from the shadows of the room.

"_Tonight, we feast with Abu Nuqoud, the merchant kind of Damascus. There is certain to be wine, meaning there will be drunks. You should know what to do," Robert explained in a murmur as we walked down the bustling streets of Damas. I nodded with each detail, drinking in all of the information. It was my first mission of sorts, and I was determined not to fail. Asad walked alongside us with his arms folded across his chest, an unusual scowl plastered across his face._

_Nuquod's palace was exquisite with gardens, fountains, and walls of red stone with elaborate designs carved into its surface. I ignored most of the merchant's speech from the balcony before the feast began, trying to focus on everything Rasha had taught me. Robert found a target for me and subtly pointed him out__ while I pretended to drink a glass of wine_

"_Go for that one with the crooked nose. Learn all you can about him, and then report it to me," Robert said. I winced when I saw the one he was pointing out. The man was thin and tall, and everything about him seemed twisted __– t__he way he smiled, his spine, his nose, and his demeanor. Robert left my side and went to speak with some guards. _

_I walked up to my target with an inviting sort of confidence, but he didn't seem to notice me. Slightly annoyed, I decided to begin the conversation myself._

"_Good evening, sir. Are you enjoying the party?" I asked coyly. He turned sharply to face me, his eyes growing wide and taking in my appearance. I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but I managed to maintain my pleasant smile._

"_Yes, no one throws parties like Nuquod's," he slurred, the stench of alcohol evident in his breath._

"_That is certainly true. You sound like you've been to many parties before, you must be important," I purred, being sure to glorify him as Rasha had instructed. The drunken smile on his face grew; I had hit the right spot._

"_I am one of Nuqoud's chief advisors. He couldn't possibly make all of these decisions himself," the man said arrogantly. I averted my eyes from his face for a moment and saw Asad leaning against one of the walls in the shadows, arms still folded over his chest and the scowl even more prominent. Deciding that I would talk to him about it later, I turned back to my target._

"_What kinds of decisions?" I asked, making sure to sound as curious as I possibly could. _

"_Anything to do with gold," he said, a greedy gleam in his eye. _

"_You like gold?" I asked, batting my eyelashes and placing a hand on the hollow at the base of my neck, revealing the golden bracelet draped around my thin wrist. His eyes grew larger, a material sort of lust clouding them._

"_Of course! I've got a plan to take Nuquod's within the week!" He said rather loudly, the drunken excitement getting the better of him. My mouth opened in shock as the guards Robert had been speaking with descended upon him, having heard__the__ man's bold exclamation. Robert came over to me and smiled in approval._

"_Well done."_

I put my whole self into the training, but Robert never discussed his goals with me. Knowing him, he probably had something planned out. I trusted him to wait for the opportune moment to share his plans.

In 1189, a messenger ran into our camp bringing news of the death of Grandmaster Ridefort. The Grandmaster of the Templars had been taken hostage by the Saracens and killed when the Templars refused to risk a rescue.

The messenger instructed Robert to return with him on a ship to London, that he might be officially initiated into the Brotherhood and have a chance to become the Grandmaster himself. Certainly not one to allow such an opportunity to pass by, Robert took Asad and I aside the morning of his departure.

"_Sana, Asad, listen closely. What I am going to tell you now is something I've never explained to anyone else before," Robert said. The scars on his face danced as his intense expressions grew wild, a mad sort of intelligence dominating his features._

"_I have trained you both to bring down the Hashashin together. They have many __warriors__, but they do not have the cunning, skill, or raw determination of __both__ of you. Sana, tell me, why is it that you fight?" Robert asked._

"_To kill Altaïr __I__bn La-Ahad, the assassin who murdered my brother," I answered, my consonants sharp __as __razors as I spat out the name despite my effort to make my inflection neutral. Robert nodded, pleased by my answer. _

"_And you, Asad, why are you here?" __he__ asked._

"_The Hashashin stripped me of my honor when I was younger. I intend to take it back," Asad explained, his voice surprisingly filled with emotion __as__ mine __was__. The corner of Robert's mouth rose for a moment, indicating his satisfaction. _

"_Over these past years, I have trained you using your emotions__," Robert said. "__They are powerful and deeply developed and will give you strength if you can shape them with concentration and discipline. You know every facet of the Assassin's Creed and can use it to talk your way out of trouble should the need arise. _

"_Your task is to find the Assassin's Bureau in Jerusalem and infiltrate it. Kill its leader, Al Mualim. With fear in their hearts you will take down __an__ army," __he finished__. He pressed a tattered piece of parchment into my hands, mounted his horse, and rode off into the morning sun._

_That tattered piece of paper held an insignia; the sign of the Hashashin. There was no written__explanation__, but as I observed its sharp corners and supple curves, I understood what it had to be._

For one year, I searched in vain for anything resembling a sign that could lead me to my ultimate goal. As that first year without Robert came to a close, we received news of Robert's ascension to Grandmaster. Up until that point, I had felt like my master had abandoned me. Now, it seemed that he was building up a foundation to support Asad and I. Asad once asked me if he thought Robert would forget us. I smiled and shook my head.

"_He is waiting patiently for us. We hold a key piece of __a__ plan, one that is unforgettable. In time, we will find the Bureau__ and the Templar__s__ will descend upon the assassins mercilessly," I said. Asad's face brightened._

"_I look forward to that day."_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks again to Ilada Jefiv for editing this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, but I do own all of my original characters. 

-Chapter 2-

_An eagle soared over the mountain, searching for its nest atop the __rugged__ precipice. Its powerful wings beat sporadically against an updraft of warm, dry air. Its exceptionally quick eyes found the carefully crafted dwelling within moments, and it banked lazily toward it. _

_The peaceful flight of the raptor was interrupted by the incessant nagging of other, lesser birds birds of prey, __squawking, __squabbling__ and causing a large __ruckus__. Unfazed, the arrogant eagle continued home._

_It wasn't until the bird of prey had nearly reached its sanctuary that they attacked. Small beaks jabbed at the sleek feathers of the royal bird, pulling them out and causing a shriek of pain from the victim. _

_Normally, no one would even dare cross the path of the eagle. But today, the smaller birds __were__ united by hated and jealousy__ and__ tried to rip the eagle apart, __each attempting__ to take a piece of its flesh for themselves. Rather than die in the air amid such animosity, the eagle folded its wings and spiraled to the earth. _

_It landed amongst the trees, hidden from the hateful leers of the other birds. But the eagle was not dead; it would not be killed by hate._

_The eagle would live on. _

_**August, 1191**_

"Good morning, Rasha," I droned as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It was the middle of summer and the sun still hadn't risen. At least we were in an actual house now, for Robert had purchased a large home for all of us in the rich district of Jerusalem. "Why did you insist I wake at such an early hour?"

"We have an important lead on the location of the Assassin's Bureau," Rasha said, her voice sounding chipper. 

I instantly became awake, intent on absorbing any information she could give me. It had been nearly two years, and Asad and I were no closer to reaching the Bureau. Trying to find and follow leads only to discover that they were false was frustrating, but I always tried to tackle each one with renewed hope. This one would be no different. 

Rasha laid my breakfast of fruit, bread, and water before me, knowing full well that I wouldn't touch it until I knew what was going on. 

"If you'll eat and refrain from fussing while I brush your hair, I'll explain," Rasha said, idly running her slender fingers through her long, ebony hair. She began combing gently through my red hair while I picked up an apple and bit into it. 

"Mmmph," I grunted, urging her to begin.

"Very well. A man called Fadh Al-Qadir is rumored to know the location of the Assassin's Bureau and has written it in a map. Tonight, he will be auctioning it off in secret at a prestigious party. You are to enter the party with Asad and steal the map from him so we can find the Bureau before the close of this year," Rasha said as she massaged my dry scalp with the brush. 

"Whose party is it?" I asked.

"We do not know. The host of the party and many of its guests are not aware of the transaction planned for tonight," Rasha admitted. 

My shoulders sagged slightly. This sounded like another false lead, but surely, I could learn something that wasn't entirely inconsequential.

"Very well. When must I leave for the party?" I asked, trying to mask the defeat in my voice.

"Asad knows where it will be held. You will leave once the sun is high. Hopefully, that will give you enough time to find it, for I am not sure how long it will take," my teacher explained, walking around to face me to observe her work. She sighed dramatically and folded her arms in frustration, pouting. "Your skin is so dry! I will have to drench it in oils to make it glow." 

I bit into the apple, breaking the core and allowing the bitter seeds to fall into my mouth. Impulsion took over, and I spat the seeds out violently, catching Rasha in the face. She blinked wordlessly, too shocked to even squeak. I instantly felt every muscle in my body tense, fearing the wrath of my instructor.

"You could have killed me! Be more careful next time!" Rasha screeched, her tongue rolling menacingly over each 'r'. She ran back around the table and whacked me repeatedly in the head with the wooden brush, each hit causing another fragment of my pride to melt away. 

It was going to be a long day.

I had not been to a party since Robert left us. I donned my old off-white chemise and a fine, floor-length gown of satin burgundy with ornate silver patterns embroidered in it over that. 

"How can a woman expect to entrance a man with such unusual hair and eyes?" Rasha sighed as she braiding my waist-length hair and adorning the end with silver ornaments. "With words," I purred in my most seductive tone, teasing her.

Rasha clicked her tongue and smacked me on the forehead with the brush. "Save it for Fadh. It is time to go now," she said as she led me out of the room to join Asad.

"Sana, you look… different," Asad choked as we entered, his eyes wide. 

He wore formal black robes, and his pale face was free from tarnish. Asad had grown much over the past few years, his angular features narrowing to a thin chin and jaw line. Rough, pale skin stretched tautly over prominent cheekbones and a strong, rounded nose. The only thing about him that looked familiar was his neat blond hair and large blue eyes with the same distinct wisdom inside them. 

"I could say as much of you," I replied. He looked slightly hurt, so I grinned at him to show that I did not say that out of ill-will.

"Let's go," Asad said, his voice suddenly impatient. 

"Both of you! Wait a moment," Hakim yelled from the adjacent room. He came running in carrying several small weapons. "Take these daggers, that you might have a lifeline should the party turn to chaos. Suleiman and I will come later tonight to ensure you have succeeded. This mission is more important than any that have come before it!" 

I felt excitement bubble from within me as I stashed a single dagger in my chemise. Today I would reach my goal, I could just feel it. 

Asad and I left the house hastily. It was already far past midday, and if we lingered much longer, we knew Rasha or Suleiman and Hakim would remember something they had forgotten to explain to us. 

We didn't have far to walk, for the party was also in the rich district. The house looked like any other around but for the dark alley just behind it. I shuddered with ecstasy as I imagined one of the Hashashin waiting back there, blood pumping beneath the rough skin of their throat and just waiting to spill forth.

"Ah, welcome! I do not recognize you, but your fine clothes must mean we have met before!" a balding man greeted us drunkenly once Asad opened the door. We merely nodded and rushed past him, working our way in through the crowd. 

Asad and I sat down on two of the comfortable seats available in the room and listened to the conversations around us, waiting to see the auctioneer or a bidder. Hours passed in this way with no sign of our target.

"Let me try to find Fadh," Asad whispered into my ear. I giggled loudly, and stumbled out of the chair into a shaky standing position.

"Oh Asad! What jokes you tell!" I said boisterously. No one seemed to notice, as they were all intoxicated as I was pretending to be. 

I got up and walked away, hoping that he got the hint that I was better suited for such a task. My eyes flicked over to where we had been sitting, only to find a woman in purple robes sitting on Asad, her ample chest pressing against him. His red face indicated that he was rather uncomfortable, but I just chuckled to myself and went off to find Fadh.

"How much?" a man's voice seemed to ring over all the other noise. 

I whirled around to face him, and fortunately, he didn't notice. He was a short, scrawny man with pale skin, dark brown hair, and equally dark eyes. I made a note of his appearance, and moved to find the one he spoke to.

"As much as you can offer for such a prize. Gold is exquisite, but knowledge precedes action, and action can buy you much more than gold," the other man slurred. I pranced around the two, working my way through the crowd. Eventually, I could see the second man who had spoken whom I believed to be Fadh. 

He must have been in his late twenties, for his deep rusty skin looked smooth and carefully preened to flawlessness. My target had coarse, black hair and a faint moustache line above his thick red lips. I carefully memorized his appearance inconspicuously while trying to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

"Fadh, we have been friends a long time, and you know I lack money, and I have a family to feed besides… but the actions you speak of will bring wealth to us both!" the smaller man pleaded. 

"I believe no one unless they can show me the evidence of their claims! Return to me later when you can prove giving you this scroll would be worth the time and effort it took to create it," Fadh hissed and stalked away. 

I followed him to a corner of the room where he poured himself a glass of wine and drained it. While he was drinking, I tried to open his pouch to retrieve the map, but he finished before I could notice.

He pivoted roughly on his heels and opened his mouth to yell, but I quickly put a hand to his lips and pressed myself against him. Fadh drunkenly grasped me in his arms, bringing me even closer. 

I gently pulled myself away and signaled for him to follow me. The man seemed to forget my crimes against him as he followed me out into the alley behind the large house. I slipped a knife into my sleeve for easy access, carefully making sure it was still in its sheath and wouldn't harm me. 

It was dark outside now. The only lights came from the lanterns along the streets and the full moon and stars above. The night air wrapped me in its cool embrace, causing me to shiver. I noted the scaffolding on either side of the houses, figuring it would be easy to climb should the need arise.

Fadh suddenly grasped me violently and shoved me against the stone wall. My quick reflexes prevented my head from smashing against the wall. I fell limply to the ground and let my eyelids rest over my eyes, feigning unconsciousness.

"Thought you could get away with that, did you?" Fadh whispered against the skin of my bare neck, leaning over my motionless body. "Now I can have a little fun and leave you to die. I've always been one to kill two birds with one stone." 

The cold earth seemed to shake beneath me. He forced all of his weight on top of me, hands entangled in my hair. Rough lips hungrily lashed at my neck, sharp teeth nipping and stretching its soft skin.

He suddenly released my hair and began fumbling with the first metal clasp at my neck. I let my hands fall to my sides, discreetly allowing my right arm to fade into its loose sleeve and grasp the handle of my small knife. I pulled it out of its leather sheath and fluidly put my arm back into its place. Fadh was too preoccupied to notice.

The vile man shakily moved on to the next clasp, the heady scent of wine on his breath giving me a headache. I ignored the pounding pain in my head, thinking to myself over and over that it would be over in a few moments. 

_Now._

The cold steel penetrated his skin so deeply, the tips of my finger pierced his skin as well. His breath became labored, lungs filling quickly with fluid.

"Y-you whore! Infidel! Assassin!" Fadh gurgled violently. I pulled the blood-soaked blade out of his stomach and slashed his throat, nearly decapitating him. A torrent of blood washed over me as I forced the body off of myself and leapt for his bag, easily retrieving the map. After tucking it and the knife back into the leather bag and placing it safely inside my chemise, I threw myself at the wall, grabbing on to the first ledge I could find and frantically scrambling over the thin footholds. 

"Up there!" Someone shouted. I didn't have to look down to know there was a swarm of guards below me. I didn't stop. I didn't think. I just kept going.

My torso made it onto the roof, but there was still the problem of lifting the rest of myself up. Just as I was about the make it, a rock struck me in the leg and caused me to let go of my grip on the roof. Using the momentum from my stumble, I forced myself back up and clawed at the surface, trying to find another hold. The stony roof wore down my nails as I slipped further. 

The thought of falling from the roof and landing amongst the bloodthirsty guards overwhelmed me with a sickening feeling. I forced the bile down and bit my lip, grunting with the strain of lifting myself back onto the roof. 

Fresh blood was spattered all over my feet, making running across the rooftops slow and treacherous. I reached the edge of the first rooftop and threw myself at the next, rolling as I landed to spare my weakened legs. 

The guards were shouting in the streets below, rallying the others who were sleeping on their shifts. I just kept moving. 

_Run. Leap. Climb. Breathe._

It was difficult to see all of the features of the buildings with star light as my only guide, so I stuck to a more 'general' route of running and aiming for larger features like hanging platforms and ornamental boxes.

I stopped on a building when the cries grew fainter. The night air seemed thin and empty from where I was standing. 

A sharp pain quaked through my body, the epicenter in my right leg. I collapsed as the fire burned in my leg, dampened by thick blood. I tried to sit up, but after seeing the arrow piercing my leg, I fell back again. I couldn't run.

_Beat. Beat. Beat._

There was an opening in the roof in front of me. I could hear the hurried sound of light footsteps on the rooftops; it would only be a few short moments before my assailant was on top of me. I forced my arms to grab one of the beams in front of me to drag myself across the green roof. 

I was nearly there, but I would not have anyone find the bloody knife or the map on me. I tucked it safely among the plants growing on the beams and stopped a moment to rest. Finally, with one last mighty pull, I threw myself through the opening in the roof and fell into the darkness below.


	3. Chapter 3

Outline for Chapter 12

A/N: Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed

-Chapter 3-

The fall was much shorter than I'd anticipated. I landed on my feet, but my right leg collapsed from the shock of the landing. I lurched forward, falling flat on my stomach; the cold the icy stone floor bled through my robes and made me shiver.

There was a glowing light coming from a room adjacent to the one I had landed in. I had barely noticed it when a shadow flew over my head and pulled the door on the roof closed, hastily fumbling with the locks. The person finished in a flash, and then leapt down and put a cool blade to my throat.

"Why are you – Allah! What happened to your leg?" the man asked in a hushed whisper, retracting the blade with a mechanical clicking noise.

I groaned, shuddering in pain. The cloaked man sighed and lifted me gently, carrying me into the light of the other room. He gasped in shock when the light revealed my feminine face.

"You are but a woman! Who did this to you?" he demanded. My vision blurred; the colors of the tapestries and candles spun around me. I wanted to explain, but the words would not reach my lips.

"Open up this door!" a guard shouted gruffly from above as he pounded ruthlessly on the roof. I whimpered softly, afraid of what would happen to me now.

"Shhh. I will be back in a moment," the cloaked man said comfortingly. He winked, brushing his cloak aside to reveal a silver sword at his belt. I blanched as I thought of the danger he was putting himself in for my sake.

"N-no!" I choked.

Ignoring my weak protests, he walked into the next room. I heard him unlock the exit and open it, stepping out onto the roof. A brief conversation followed, and near the end I heard the same sharp clicking noise from before.

A scream, then silence.

The hatch opened, causing me to curl up into a tiny ball. I was defenseless, a pathetic, weaponless wreck in the center of a candlelit room. Relief washed over me as I saw the cloaked man enter, carrying a limp body over his shoulders.

"This is where I store the bodies of those who attempt to invade my sanctuary," he chuckled. My eyes widened as I watched him press a switch, and another, louder clicking noise followed. He pushed against a part of the wall, causing one of the many bookcases in the room to whirl around. He tossed the body in, moved the wall back into place, and clicked the switch again.

"It was difficult to make, but it gave me something to do. You won't show anyone where it is, will you?" he asked lightheartedly.

"Ah, how rude of me. I haven't yet introduced myself. You may call me Jabr," he said.

"M-my leg," I groaned.

"Right, I was getting to that," Jabr said.

He walked over and straightened out my right leg, which was still curled against my chest. Jabr placed one hand on the shaft of the arrow, and the other against my leg. In one quick motion, he yanked the arrow out of my leg, tearing through my flesh once again.

I let out a feral snarl and thrashed about violently, and Jabr left my side for a moment to get a white cloth. Once he returned, he grasped my small, white hand in his large, calloused one to calm me. As soon as I stopped squirming in pain, he wrapped the cloth around my leg to stop the bleeding.

"You should sleep. But before you do, what is your name?" Jabr asked.

"S-Sana," I said, my eyes fluttering closed in fatigue. I felt him pick me up again, and carry me out of the room. Jabr gently placed me down on a pile of pillows and blankets, and stayed by my side until I drifted from consciousness.

_The wolf cub's haunting golden eyes widened. The metallic scent of blood was thick in the frigid night air. A stag lay dead before it, the one it had been tracking for days. The child thought it would be overjoyed to have made its first kill. _

_But no one was there to share it._

_Thus the happiness was bittersweet. The corpse disgusted the cub, as did the blood in the air. There was no one to remind the wolf-child that it had done what was right, and for a moment, it doubted its instinct. Killing provided the energy to live, but what sort of life was this? Living only to kill others? There had to be more._

_Whispers on the wind told the lone cub that this was right. The old stag was sick anyway; better to kill the sick ones to ensure the stronger deer would thrive. By killing this scourge, the young wolf was protecting the strong and innocent from infectious diseases and weaknesses. _

_A knife to cut the sickness from the herd._

I was awakened by the shafts of sunlight piercing the wooden beams above me. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, the movement causing a wave of pain to course through my leg. I choked on the breath in my throat, and doubled over onto the pillows. I became used to the ache in my leg after a few moments, and successfully propped myself up on my elbows.

I took in the room; everything from the smooth stonework to the exquisite tapestries adorning the walls. I lay amongst ornamental pillows, their intricate patterns dancing over the silky fabric. My eyes shot upward to the entrance, which remained closed in case anyone of ill-intent was lurking about. I looked down at the green plants which hung like witch's tresses from a fountain, greedily suckling every drop of moisture from the stone. A thin stream of the crystalline water cascaded from a small metal spout into a miniature pool covered by a metal grate, and just above that –

I had to do a double take to make sure me eyes were not deceiving me. The symbol of the assassin Brotherhood was etched on the wall just above the water spout. I had landed by mistake among the enemy that had alluded me for years. I could see the walls around me painted in blood.

_Altair's blood._

"Sana, it is good to see you awake!" Jabr exclaimed from the other room, snapping me out of my reverie.

Now that I knew where I was, it was easy to see through his cheerful pretenses. I forced myself to stand up by trying to put most of my weight on my left leg, and limped into the other room.

Now, in the pale morning sunlight, I could better distinguish Jabr's features. He had plain dark brown eyes and short black hair. Traces of light whiskers shaded the skin just under his angular nose. His red lips accented his russet skin, which looked leathery from days spent out in the sun long ago, replaced by hours toiling away mindlessly in the Bureau.

He stood behind a counter littered with documents, books, and old, useless quills. I hobbled over to him and leaned against the counter before speaking.

"Thank you, Jabr. How long was I asleep?" I asked, mimicking his bright attitude. Before answering me, he leapt over the counter and ran over to one of the tables in the room and fetched me a chair. I must have looked slightly taken aback by his sudden outburst of energy, for he held the back of the chair and grinned mischievously.

"Do sit, please. You shouldn't be walking just yet," Jabr said, evading my question for the moment. He tried to help me sit, but I pushed him away gently and sat shakily on my own. He shrugged, and continued. "I've prepared an ointment for you to put on the injury to prevent infection. I already cleaned it and put a little on while you were sleeping, but it is time to change your bandages and have more medicine," Jabr explained, as he began to unwrap my bandages. "And as to how long you've been asleep, its been about twelve hours since you fell from the sky."

"You are very kind. Do you live here alone?" I asked, hoping to somehow cause him to slip up and mention the brotherhood. As it was now, I was protected by the first tenet of the Creed.

"Yes, but from time to time I get visits from my… friends," Jabr said carefully.

"And that symbol in the fountain –"

"Why did the guards attack you?" Jabr cut me off, his voice slightly tense. I held in my exasperated sigh, and decided to humor him with an honest answer.

"I attacked a man who tried to rape me," I said, looking to the ground in mock shame. "I was searching for a place where I could learn more about how my family died, and he promised to help me."

"Your family died as well?" Jabr asked mournfully, his traitor eyes filled with emotion. I looked up in surprise, and then faced the ground again.

"Yes. What happened to yours?" I asked, hoping I could somehow get inside his secrets by forming a link of empathy with the man. He was clearly broken, which would make him spout secrets more readily than he would otherwise.

"The Templar knights attacked my village, and my wife and daughters were among those killed," Jabr muttered.

I was dumbstruck. Robert had already led an assault on the assassins without contacting any of us? Had he forgotten our mission? Were we insignificant to him now?

"Why would they attack you? I thought Templars wanted peace," I said, hoping to sound more at ease than I felt.

"That is what they claim. But their actions do not coincide with their words," Jabr said bitterly.

"But what did you do to anger them so much that they would take an entire village?" I asked.

"They fight us because we do not believe as they do. But they did not claim the village. A man named Altair stopped the invasion," Jabr said, his mind elsewhere.

_Altair?_

"He must be a great hero," I said, hoping to get a passionate reaction out of him.

"Ha!" Jabr snorted. "He was the one who led the Templars to our home in the first place!"

I could feel my body tense in apprehension at his outburst, and Jabr sensed it too. He looked up at me inquisitively.

"Sorry, it's the pain," I bluffed, wincing convincingly. "What will you do about Altair?" I asked, my jaw still clenched.

"There is nothing for me to do. He has been stripped of his rank and dignity for causing such trouble for us."

"I am sorry for everything that has happened," I muttered, not knowing what else to say and not wanting to push my luck too far.

Though I truly did feel sorry for this man. His mind had clearly been so mangled by prolonged loneliness and the death of his family that he didn't care what happened to himself as a result of giving too much information. There were so many other things he could have done to me to protect his order, but instead he smiled and silently finished mending my leg.

It would be his downfall.

"Jabr, would you mind it if I climbed onto the roof?" I asked. I searched his face for an answer, and found nothing but disapproval. "I'd like to stretch my leg and walk in the sunshine for a bit," I added. He suddenly smiled and walked over to pick me up.

"I admire your courage, Sana. Though, I must insist on joining you; I can't have the guards harming you any more," Jabr said, his voice back to its impossibly kind tone.

He carried me over to the fountain, opened up the hatch, and helped me up onto the roof. Jabr helped me stand, despite my quiet protests.

"Please, let me stand on my own. It will help me regain my strength more quickly," I said firmly. Jabr nodded and let me go. I wobbled a bit a first, and the pain in my right leg was nearly unmanageable. I gritted my teeth and limped around.

"The ointment appears to be helping," I gasped after a while of walking. Jabr chuckled and stretched his muscles as well.

"I think I might go to the market to get some breakfast. You must be hungry," Jabr said. I limped over to him and reached into the folds of my gown, retrieving a small handful of golden coins.

"Use my money. You have already given me your time and space, and I cannot accept any more from you," I offered, pressing the gold into his palm.

"Thank you, Sana," he forged a smile on his dry lips.

Without allowing any more words to pass between us, Jabr descended a ladder from the roof and joined the throng of afternoon pedestrians.

As soon as he was out of sight, I hurried over to the beams and searched the green leaves for my dagger and the map. They were fairly easy to find; it was fortunate that I didn't have to leave them there for long. The dagger I hid in my sleeve, and the map I tucked into my chemise.

Once that was finished, I sat cross-legged on the stony section of the roof over the sign of the assassins, patiently awaiting Jabr's return. It didn't take him long to return with a basket of fruits and cheeses. He swung easily into the Bureau, and then came back to help me down.

"You know, Sana," Jabr crunched through his crisp apple, "you've got some unusual eyes there."

I smiled grimly, reminded of how the children back at home used to make fun of me for them.

"I am not certain if you mean that in a kind way," I replied, my tone implying chastity.

"I'm not either," Jabr replied. His expression changed in a 'did-I-really-just-say-that' sort of way. I laughed, assuming he was attempting to be humorous.

"Well, I really should be getting home. The day is still young, and my friends must be wondering what became of me," I said. Jabr's face grew grim.

"I'm afraid that is impossible, Sana," Jabr said.

"Wh-why not?" I asked, my voice beginning to tremble. I wasn't sure if I was just acting or not.

"I am a greedy man, Sana," Jabr began, his voice solemn. "You wanted to know what the sign above the fountain meant, yes?"

I nodded, hoping he would continue.

"It is the symbol of the Hashashin. You have, no doubt, heard murmurs of our work," Jabr said, his face growing expressionless.

"You could say that," I said, my voice equally toneless. I slouched in my chair, so I could grasp the handle of my bloodstained dagger underneath the table.

"As a man of the Assassin's Creed, I am often denied the pleasures of women," Jabr said, his lips curling menacingly. I gripped the handle of the dagger more tightly. "But when I joined, I was already married and my wife was carrying our child. Our leader, Al Mualim, punished me by sending me to serve in Jerusalem. I never even got to see my daughter," Jabr explained, his eyes cloudy with hunger.

_Not again._

"Do not fear, I remain faithful to my deceased wife and only desired your company. But you have learned too much. I have taken your time, and now I must take your –"

I shoved the blade into his chest.


End file.
